Long Hair in the Gundam
by Seraphim Grace
Summary: Heero takes a moment to consider Duo's braid.
1. Default Chapter

Long Hair in the Gundam

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Heero's fingers itched towards the knife on the table as the braid slapped him hard across the cheek as Duo whirled around to lift his coffee from the counter. It was the fifth time this week.

Heero had come to the conclusion that he was madly in love with Duo, and he loved it, when Duo looked at him and he knew that his entire being was focussed on him Heero's heart skipped a beat. He loved the way Duo smiled at him over his cup of coffee, although he really did drink too much coffee. He loved the puppy whiffle snore he made when he slept. However Duo's braid was another matter.

He didn't know how Duo lived with it.

It got everywhere.

As a braid it was like part snake or tentacle or something, it slapped him, it wrapped around his throat when he slept and attempted to strangle him. In fact he was convinced it had a mind of his own. It hugged his ass when he walked. It swayed behind him in perfect counterpoint to his hips bringing to mind the sultry little strut that Duo didn't even notice he used. It slapped him round the face when Duo turned around too fast. He was half convinced that Duo was part Gorgon from the life of it's own that his hair had.

When it was down it was truly vicious.

Before they became lovers, when Heero had just lusted after Duo with all his teenage hormones, when he was injured and staying with Trowa at the circus, he had confessed his desire to sleep with Duo, with his hair down. He imagined it would be like sleeping on a cloud, or a bed of rose petals.

It was like being strangled by some Lovecraftian nightmare of tentacles and wire. It filled his mouth and tried to force it's sweetly smelling way down his throat causing him to gag. And to make strangulation worse Duo kept hitting him and complaining he was lying on his hair.

The hair had a life of it's own.

It took half a bottle of shampoo and Heero's own weight in conditioner every three days. He was having to hack an Oz account just to keep Duo in hair care, not to mention cloth covered elastic bands, leave in conditioners, anti frizz balms, and heat protection sprays. Being a head and shoulders man himself this had him baffled, and because Duo's hair was so long and shiny he couldn't just use any shampoo he had to have lavender, mint and horse chestnut in it, and it cost more for one bottle than Heero spent on shampoo in a year.

It took three hours to blow dry it, leaving Heero hunched over with sore shoulders from holding them up long enough to manage the hair. It was far too long for Duo to do himself.

Not that Heero didn't get immense satisfaction from brushing Duo's hair, running the tines through the silky mass listening to Duo purr and melt against him. It was just a Herculean task. Once a week, any more than that and Heero was sure that he'd die, he blow-dried Duo's hair and then went over it with the straightening irons to get the kinks out then he carefully braided it.

He loved making love to Duo with his hair unbound, the way it shimmered and cloaked them, of course then he put his hand down on a patch of it causing Duo to cry out as it was pulled. Then he had to help Duo wash it again, because he'd gotten all sweaty and it was a two man job emptying out the trap in the bath, Duo's hair being far too long to wash in the shower, it had to be washed separately over the bath. It took over an hour to wash it too.

More often than not Wufei would stomp down the stairs of the safehouse holding what appeared to be a small furry animal and complain that Maxwell had used his brush before dumping the hair in the bin, or there was a scream from Quatre that there was a wolfman in the shower because Duo hadn't bothered to clean the trap and it looked like it was going to attack. And if Duo didn't have enough product for his hair he had a tendency to use Trowa's as he was the only person that spent more than 95c on a bottle of shampoo which caused Duo to spend the rest of the day dodging knives for having emptied a nearly full bottle without asking.

Added to all that misery were the mysterious hairs that Heero couldn't explain.

He kept finding hideously long hairs about his person, in his food, on his toothbrush. In fact he was half convinced that Duo was shedding. The worst ones were the ones that itched between his ass cheeks, he had no idea how they got there, but they did and they definitely weren't his. He pulled them out of his shorts all the time, not one or two, but an entire head of hair's worth.

He even found them in his shoes.

He was half convinced that if a fire ever broke out in an empty Deathscythe Hell it would smell first and foremost of burning hair.

Even now it was swaying behind him like a threat as Duo drank his coffee. It was obviously waiting for the moment when it could lash out and strangle him. He was Duo's lover now and it was jealous, it was the only thing that made sense. The hair viewed him as a rival, which is why it took every single opportunity afforded it to attack him.

He slammed his fist down on the table causing everyone to look at him, "I have come to a decision." He said firmly, Duo looked at him with a faint smile, "that you have to choose, me or that braid." Everyone gasped, but Duo just shrugged.

"Okay," he said, "I was thinking about getting it cut, you wouldn't believe the places it gets, and I only grew it out because I couldn't be assed to go to the hairdressers."

He tried to imagine Duo with short hair, hair as short as his own and found that he couldn't. He tried to imagine it only being shoulder length, falling around his neck, or as long as Zechs wore his, just to the waist and not the knees. He loved Duo, he loved all of Duo, he loved Duo's hair and couldn't imagine him without it. "Don't you dare." He growled. "I love your hair." He decided.

If it had have had eyes Heero was sure the braid would have winked at him.

Heero made a mental note, the braid had psychic powers.

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Author's note:

I have over certain periods of my life had very long hair, it grows to my knees I cut it to my neck and all because I can't be bothered to keep it in the same style and going to visit the hairdresser every six weeks. Then I cut it and miss it so I grow it back and it gets everywhere, it weighs a ton, it takes forever to do anything with and you wear it in either a knot or a braid so you can actually do anything.

So this small humour fic is in retaliation to short haired people that think that long hair behaves, it doesn't, and strange boyfriends who want shot of it but can't bear it to be gone.


	2. Long hair in Epyon

Long hair in the Gundam : Part two

Treize looked at his platinum haired lover and sighed. He wondered if it was possible to sneak behind him with a pair of shears as he pulled yet another impossibly long blonde hair off his velvet jacket. It could not be borne. The hair spread as quickly and efficiently as a virus.

He had actually, though he'd deny it if pressed, built the Epyon to see if there was a way to stop Zechs' amazing hair. He had to admit it was amazing, but it was also unstoppable.

There were many things he loved about the hair, the look of it when the light hit it and Zechs turned to look at him that made his heart turn to jelly in his chest and his breath caught. He loved playing with it. He loved brushing it and listening to Zechs purr almost like a kitten.

There were many pet hates about hair, the cloud of noxious hair spray he left behind him in the morning, where he had scraped it back and expected it to stay before he pulled on his mask to prevent what he called helmet hair. There was also the fact that because he liked to shower in the morning he had to be up at five to allow Zechs enough time to deal with his hair and be at work on time, and as Treize couldn't drive he had to shower first which meant he had to be up before dawn on icy cold mornings and brave the bathroom which felt like it held some portal to Antarctica. Of course it was lovely and warm for Zechs when he got up.

Then there was the helmet hair tantrums, why did Zechs care that when he took his mask that his hair was flattened, no one else ever saw it.

And God help any opponent he ran across if the day was humid, he would just obliterate them because his hair had gone frizzy. Treize didn't even know what frizzy meant. He woke up, washed his hair, blow dried it, something that Zechs seemed afraid to do, put in a little product, just a little to make it sit right, and that was it, done. He had an idea, judging by the amount of bottles Zechs had in the bathroom that he was like a mad scientist first thing in the morning.

It also meant that Treize did most of the household chores, he made breakfast and made sure that Zechs ate before leaving for work, because Zechs was too busy taken care of his mane. He knew that princes were supposed to be blonde and handsome but Zechs did take it a little far.

His hair brush was bigger than Treize's hand.

And there were other, more annoying, niggles. Nothing was bad enough to be an actual complaint, they were just little things that niggled away at him, waking him up at two o'clock in the morning to remind him that he was annoyed.

First and foremost he was pretty convinced Zechs loved his hair more than he loved Treize, he certainly spent more time on it, but Treize loved Zechs' hair too, sometimes, so he could forgive him for that.

Long white blonde hairs littering every dark item of clothing he owned. He didn't like that.

The fact that the length of Zechs' hair attracted other people's attention to his wonderful butt annoyed Treize no end, Zechs was his and the idea of other people looking at his wonderful butt caused him to consider invading countries, usually the countries the person with the offending eyes was from. Even though Treize was willing to concede it was the hair at fault more often than not.

The bangs. They were a whole pet peeve all by themselves, Zechs got home, took off his mask and Treize still couldn't see his face. Sometimes it was like living with Cousin It from the Addams' family, though Treize suspected he didn't spend as long in the bathroom.

He left soggy pink towels all over the house, from where he had wrapped them around his hair, and if he was having a lazy day he would leave it wrapped in the towel for upwards of an hour. It made him look like a camp sheikh.

He never tied it up which meant more often than not Treize turned over in bed to snuggle to his platinum blonde head and was attacked. Often violently with a kicking snarling yowling creature squalling he was lying on his hair. It wasn't his fault it was all over the pillow, and the mattress. Yet heaven help him if he turned over in the night and his arm fell on Zechs.

Suggesting to Zechs that he had a beautiful forehead and should show it off around the house usually resulted in a scowl that could strip paint and worse mentioning it might be an idea to braid his hair before going to bed usually was answered with "Do I look like a hyperactive Gundam pilot?" And you never heard him yowling when he lay on his hair.

Of course Treize had laughed his head off when he had heard Relena Peacecraft talking with Dorothy Catalonia about how you should never sleep with a man with better hair than you. Dorothy had just smiled and said she had perfect hair, the hussy. Then he had gotten annoyed when self same Dorothy suggested that Treize had usurped Relena's throne because he had wanted to be Queen of the world. He swore being snippy came with the hair. However he took a great deal of pleasure knowing that the pink princess would never have the man of her dreams as he had his own hair bear to take care of.

Lady Une never had these problems, she might have had a split personality and a little bit of a crush on him but you never heard her whining that her hair was frizzy just because there was a single drop of moisture in the air somewhere in the world.

He looked at where Zechs sat in the window seat, lost in his book. The crisp line of pale blonde hair with the sun gleaming behind him. They were alone in the house so his mask was hanging by the door. He took a moment to appreciate Zechs' beauty, a beauty it would be much easier to appreciate if all that damn hair wasn't in the way.

He was beautiful, even his hair was beautiful, it wasn't fair. Treize knew he wasn't bad looking but all anyone ever did was stare at his eyebrows, it wasn't his fault that his father thought it would make him evil to pluck them in the middle as a child and they'd never grown back right. Then to make matters worse Dorothy of all people decided to copy him. That girl was strange, and according to Zechs, not a natural blonde.

It was all to do with the hair, Treize thought for a moment, but why doesn't mine grow like that?


End file.
